


A Gilded Cage

by GoatBazaarofFics, protect-him (protect_him)



Series: A Crown of Poppies and Feathers [1]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Blight, Anders Needs a Hug, Angels, Justice is human, Mythical Beings & Creatures, and hates zoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2019-02-14 05:04:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13000467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoatBazaarofFics/pseuds/GoatBazaarofFics, https://archiveofourown.org/users/protect_him/pseuds/protect-him
Summary: “Commander, it should be me investigating the zoo. He’s my father!”“Which is why Alistair and I agree you aren’t going, Howe.”Justice finds a beautiful, winged-man trapped in a gilded cage.





	A Gilded Cage

Justice stalks the grounds of the Amaranthine Zoo. He passes the caged bears, the chattering monkeys, the statuesque lynxes. He moves silently and quickly to the official building meant for the workers. He has a meeting with his temporary employer. Commander Mahariel suspected Arl Howe of illegal activity and sent him undercover to investigate. If the Rivaini Warden had an issue with his assignment, he kept his opinion to himself.

Oh, did he have opinions. He hates deceit. It would be better to storm Howe’s office and find evidence that way. If there is an unlawful imprisonment of mythical creatures, they need to confront Rendon Howe at his home. Not lie and play pretend.

Justice stops in front of the stone building. It's not big, by any means. It's simple, square building with a reasonably size spire attached to the back. His eyes drift upward. Why would a zoo need a tower? What was Howe hiding?

A guard nods his head at him as he pushes through the double doors.

Justice’s sword hand twitches. He isn’t armed; a zoo keeper doesn’t need weapons. But as he goes down the wide halls, he feels naked without his armor. He wears the light-tan uniform of the zoo. It’s not even padded against a tiger’s claws or a wolf’s bite. If the rumors are true, Howe would have well trained men guarding the creature. Templars, most likely. He digs his fingers into his nails at the thought of running into their  _lot._   The only Templar worth a damn is Commander's lover, and not even he likes the order.

He shakes his head. He’s getting ahead of himself. He goes to the far door on the left and knocks.

“Come in,” came a woman’s voice, thick with an orlesian accent,  from behind the door. Leonie Caron was a former Warden herself. She left long before Justice was recruited to work for Howe. Why she was appointed to run his zoo, the Commander didn’t say.

Justice pushes open the door and is greeted by the brunette's bright smile. “Kristoff! Punctual as ever.” She stands behind her desk and gestures him inside.

He scans the room quickly. His training demands it. Bookshelves line the walls. Her sword and shield hang behind her, a place of honor. Her desk is clean. Papers stack neatly on one corner, while the other has a statue of a snarling werewolf. “I enjoy being on time,” he answers. His fellow Wardens have told him he needed to practice pleasantries and on his social skills. He disagreed.

Caron laughs. “Yes, I know.” Her smile is warm and he tries to read her. Her round, soft face is opening. Her rosy cheeks are framed by chocolate curls. She is small and demeure. Justice looks at her and sees an innocent woman. Pure to the core, hardly a slaver. “You have been with us for a few months, but you are one of our best workers.”

“Thank you, Director Caron. I love animals,” which is true. He adores all living beings. What he doesn’t love is zoos. He finds the very concept of capturing animals, ripping them from their habitat, and all for the amusement for humans and dwarves repugnant. Commander Mahariel and elves like him have it right when it comes to zoos and circuses.

She moves from around the desk and walks up to him. She is so close he sees the specks of green and blue in her hazel eyes. “You do your job well, Kristroff. As such, I trust you to take care of one our special attractions.”

Justice tilts his head. “What do you mean by special attractions?”

She reaches around him and closes the door and locks it. “I’ll show you,” she nods her head for him to follow. She stops at her desk and pulls a sack out of her drawers. She goes to one of the bookshelves and pulls a massive tome off of it. She puts it on her desk. It shifts and creeks until it’s turned sideways, leaving a gaping hole for them to walk through.

Justice makes his way to the secret passage. He doesn’t hide his distrust. “What is going on, Director?” He glares up the well-lit stairway. They spiral, causing unease to spread through him.

She places a hand on his shoulder and he wants to pull away from her touch, but he doesn’t. “It will make sense if you see him instead of me explaining.” She leaves him behind and grabs a torch. He hesitates, but after a moment he follows.

They had gone twenty steps up when he hears the first note. The sound is warm honey on a summer day. Sweet and rich. And melancholy. Justice isn’t the type of man to cry, but tears form at the corners of his eyes. The soft tenor speaks to him. It dredges up memories of home. The smell of salt in the air. The gentle breeze against his skin. Cool water brushing against his feet. As they get closer, Justice realizes the language the man is singing isn’t one he recognize. He only knows his native tongue and common.

He is about to ask what the man is singing, but Caron comes to a stop before they reach the bottom of the stairs in front of red curtains. She turns to around, her face grim. “You need to know one thing about what I’m going to show you: looks are deceiving. Do not take his appearance to mean he is innocent.”

Justice narrows his eyes, “I’ve recently learned this lesson.”

She smiles again, missing his double meaning. “Good man.” She continues forward, disappearing behind the curtains. When the drapery parted, the singing grew louder. He grabs the edge to chase the melodic tones.

He enters a round room. It’s tall, almost like a tower. He can see the exterior of the building. The tower, they told him, was for aesthetic. At the very top there are three large windows, putting a spotlight on why they lied.

In the center of the room is a shimmering cage. Locked inside, is a man with large wings. in a waterfall of gold, his hair falls down his back. The ends curl and tangle. He is chained to the ground by his foot. His back is to them, and he hasn’t noticed his company.

“Anders!” Caron calls over his singing, cutting him off. The winged-man jolts and looks over his shoulder. He has to move his wing for him to see properly, showing off his sharp profile.

The spark of terror in the man’s amber eyes do not go unnoticed. “Ser Caron?” The shakiness to his voice causes a surge of protectiveness through Justice. He has to stay calm and keep face. Snapping and killing Caron won’t solve anything.

Caron doesn’t care about how scared Anders is of her. But she does notice the smell. Her face scrunches up. The stench of piss and feces permeate the room. She stalks up to the cage and holds the sack out for him. “I brought you food and a visitor.”

Anders staggers to his feet. He is naked, revealing his ribs, thin stomach, and bony knees. He walks as far as he can and grabs the bag. He gets a handful of breadcrumbs and stuffs it in his mouth. He barely finishes his first bite before consuming more.

Rage consumes Justice. He doesn’t think rationally and opens his mouth without thinking, “is that all you’re feeding him?” his voice bounces around the walls. Anders flinches and hides himself behind his wings. 

Caron glares at him. “What else am I supposed to feed him?”

“Meat? Fruits? Full pieces of a bread!” He shouts. The rage building up, threatening to take of him. How could she do this to him? The wrongness confuses and angers him. “More than just table scraps!” He is shaking. He’s breathing hard. His constant disgust of working at this zoo  coming to the surface. Pretending to enjoy enslaving animals for others’ amusement was one thing. At least the animals were well taken care of. But this? Anders should be free, enjoying the sun on his wings. Not locked in some tower, wasting away.

Caron purses her lips and her eyes. She raises her hand at the winged-man. “I told you before, Kristoff, looks are deceiving.” Her voice is even as she speaks. She turns her back on him to face Anders. The man peeks through his feathers, his large amber eyes shining through. Justice catches the tears glistening the round orbs. His stomach is in knots. “He may look like us, but he’s isn’t human. He may be beautiful, but underneath is a monster. He is a bird in man's skin. Don’t let his pretty face fool you."

 

Hours later, Justice is sits across from Commander Mahariel. They in the infirmary, Anders is sleeping in a cot next him. He brushes the hair out of the man’s face. The Dalish elf is leaning against the wall, head is in his hands. “Explain to me how an undercover mission ended in a bloodbath and a horde of wild animals roaming the streets of Amaranthine?” he asked, finally looking up.

Justice shrugs, his eyes still on Anders’s sleeping form. “I did what was right, Commander.”

There's the light tapping of bare feet on stone floors. Commander rests a hand on his shoulder and squeezes it tightly, "I know you do, Lethallin."


End file.
